Belatedness
by AkaiTsumi
Summary: Mello's forgotten Matt's birthday completely ... but then again, he has a habit of celebrating his friend's special day in ... ah, unusual ways to say the least.


_AN: So yeah. I forgot. Completely. Totally. Utterly. _

_About a week ago, I realized my calendar was still on January, turned the page and - right there, slap bang in the square for 1st of Feb, written in my illegible handwriting, was 'MATT'. Well, bother._

_So the guilt-plot-bunnies hijacked my brain, and I found myself pouring out this. Um... it started off as a humor ... then completely became angst in my original, so I went back and rewrote it. I'm still not too pleased with the ending though. It still sounds kinda angsty and I was sort of writing it without having a clue where I wanted it to go. But anyway._

_Here ya go, Matt. Happy Extremely Belated Birthday!  
_

* * *

One of Matt's earliest and most treasured memories is of his sixth birthday.

As a present, Mello had tried to drown Near by dunking his head in the fish tank. Unfortunately (for Mello), he'd been thwarted by the arrival of Finny the Fish Freak – known to the majority of Wammy's as just 'Finley' – who had started screaming about goldfish-rights.

However, Matt's always suspected that despite the failure, Mello still managed to gain some sort of vindictive delight from the incident, as his victim had spent the whole of the next week severely ill from inhaling fish food.

And all the other shit floating round in the water.

Matt smiles over his DS as he succeeds in lapping Donkey Kong.

_Good times_.

Then there was his eighth birthday too.

In celebration of the occasion, Mello had stol … er, miraculously gained possession of Wammy's motion-sensor camera, which he'd hidden on top of the fridge just so they could record Roger's face when he came to retrieve his grapefruit juice in the morning and read the colourful collection of curses that Mello had adorned the fridge door with, using their letter-shaped fridge-magnets.

They'd posted it on YouTube an hour later, once Roger and Wammy had finished lecturing Mello, who claimed that they were just impressed that an eight-year-old could have even _heard_ of such words.

For his tenth birthday, Mello had somehow managed to get his hands on a load of fireworks, which he'd promptly decided to set off in the playroom.

Several hours later had found a burnt but highly satisfied Mello being reprimanded by Roger, Wammy, Roger, the Fire Brigade, Roger, the Ambulance driver, Roger, the doctors who came with the Ambulance driver, Roger and finally Roger, whilst poor Finny lamented over the loss of his goldfish. In the ensuing chaos that had followed the bookcase catching fire, the fish-tank had been one of the nearest sources of water and nobody had really cared whether or not the fish were inside when it was thrown over the shelf containing Wammy's Dickens collection.

As Mello had brightly pointed out, the tank had done an impeccable job of serving in its line of duty numerous times.

On Matt's twelfth birthday, Mello had actually bought him something.

Unfortunately, being a cake that had decided to go into chocolate-overload, it never got to see the first of February.

On Matt's fourteenth, Mello left Wammy's.

Matt's face darkens at the memory.

On screen, Mario skids on a bunch of bananas that Peach helpfully decided to leave on the middle of the track.

"Bitch," Matt mutters.

He's learned over the recent years not to expect too much from Mello when it comes to birthdays.

Then again, he's learned not to expect _anything_ from Mello.

Angrily, Matt stabs at the keys as he overtakes the banana-wielding blonde and his ears catch the sound of rushed footsteps stampeding up the staircase outside the apartment.

Speak of the devil.

Matt can hear him swearing before he's even come through the door.

"Shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-"

There's the sound of fumbling keys and another muffled expletive before the door is wrenched open by the blonde – this time the chocolate-wielding one.

"_Shit_ – MATT!"

Mario darts over the finish-line, bypassing his brother at the last second, and Matt spares Mello a glance long enough to notice his despairing expression.

Wait.

_What?_

_Mello_ in despair?

Matt sits bolt-upright and stares at the despairer, his hands holding the console falling to his lap. Something must be seriously wrong for Mello to look that troubled. Well, traumatized-troubled, as opposed to pissed-off troubled. That was normal.

His fears are confirmed when Mello marches across the room and leans down to grab Matt by the shoulders, his face inches away, sorrow and shame sparkling in his brown eyes.

It was just a pity 'brown' didn't begin an 's', Matt reflects; then the alliteration would have been perfect.

He realizes what he'd just thought and freezes, then decides to put his dodgy descriptions down to (_more_ alliteration?) his heart's sudden increased activity due to Mello's sudden close proximity.

And thanks whichever God is watching over him (shinigami or not) that the orange-tint of his goggles masks his eyes to the extent that Mello can't see how his gaze keeps on darting to those chocolate-consuming lips.

"_Matt!_" Mello cries at last. "Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

"Tell you what?" Mello asks, bewildered.

Mello looks ready to start wringing his hands. Matt tries not to think about how adorably cute that would be.

"That it was your _birthday!_"

Oh.

That.

Matt averts his gaze abruptly from the image of disparity – was that even a word? If not, it should be, he decides – before him, letting his hair act as a second shield for his eyes, over the goggles.

"Well," he mutters, "it _was_ a whole month ago …"

"Exactly! Why didn't you tell me?"

Matt's voice drops, if possible, even quieter. "It is a _little _bit depressing when even your best friend forgets your _birthday_."

Yup, this year, Mello forgot his birthday entirely.

"No – Matt – I'm sorry!"

Matt shrugs. "'S okay."

He has such a bad habit of lying.

"No, it's not!" Mello reinforces fiercely, grabbing Matt's face in his hands and forcing him to look at him. "I'm so sorry! What can I do to make it up to you?"

Matt stares at him. All his previous birthdays surface in his mind and rest there, bobbing up and down; all the 'presents' in their younger years which were, to be completely honest, stupid, really; all the years of being terrified shitless for his vanished friend; all the disappointment a month before when Mello had downright _forgotten_ …

He stares at the distress etched onto every feature of Mello's face and the remaining anger in his stomach bubbles away into non-existence as he realizes that what he wants most of all is just for everything never to happen again …

"Stay," he whispers hoarsely.

"Huh?"

"Just stay there," Matt repeats, stronger. "Stay there and don't you ever _dare_ leave."

"Matt …"

"_Never_," Matt brushes away Mello's hands and stands up, pulling off his goggles so Mello can see his eyes properly and whatever godforsaken emotions he can find there, "never ever _ever_ leave me again. That's what you can do."

Cautiously, Mello wraps his arms around his un-goggled friend and buries his face in his copper hair.

"Sure, Matty," he says, uncharacteristically soft. "Don't worry. I won't do that again."

Matt sniffs. "Good. Or I'll never save your ungrateful ass again."

Mello laughs, then leans down to whisper in his ear. "Happy Birthday, Matt."

Matt sneezes. "Urgh. I must be allergic to too much seriosity."

Oh, that was another word that sounded cool, like the aforementioned disparity. Why did words ending in 'ity' sound just awesome like that?

And why the hell was his brain spouting weird shit like this?

Standing with Mello's arms around him, engulfed in his warmth and breathing in his unique, Mello-scent, Matt decides to attribute it to happiness.

Pure happiness at the sudden upturn of events; like, maybe one day, he'll be able to get Mello to wring his hands so he can declare how adorably cute it is.

And pure happiness at having his birthday arrive at last.

Even if it is a month late.


End file.
